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LAUGHTER IN COURT 

(CAPTAIN JOHN KENDALL) 

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LAUGHTER IN COURT 



LAUGHTER IN 
COURT 

A COMEDY IN ONE ACT 



By 
CAPTAIN JOHN KENDALL 



Copyright, 1910, by Samuel French. Limited 



New York j London 

S." MCJEL FRENCH j SAMUEL FRENCH. Ltd 

Publisher 26 Southampton Street 

28-30 WEST 3 8th STREET J STRAND 



Jb 



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CI.D 22966 



CHARACTERS 

His Worship. 

His Guest. 

His Visitor. 

His Manservant. 



Produced at Drury Lane, Ma; 



)09. 



CAST 



His Worship 
His Guest. 
His Visitor 
His Manservant 



Mr. Cyril Maude 

Mi. A. Holmes-Gore. 

Mr. Gerpld Du Maurier, 

Mr. John Hai w »orf 



The Amateur Fee for each and every representa- 
tion of this play is One Guinea, payable in advance 
to— 

Messrs. Samuel French, Ltd., 

27, Wellington Street, 

Strand, London, 
or their authorised agents. 



No performance may be given unless a written 
authority has first been obtained. 

Any costumes, wigs or properties used in the per- 
formance of " Laughter in Court " may be hired 
or purchased reasonable from Messrs. C. H. Fox, Ltd., 
27, Wellington Street, Strand, London. 



LAUGHTER IN COURT 



Scene. — His Worship's residence, on the edge of a 
retired common in the neighbourhood of London. The 
season is Spring, the hour about ten o'clock at night. 

An extremely comfortable apartment, part drawing- 
room, part library and study, obviously the " den " 
of a bachelor of sound ideas and good income. Among 
other furniture are a piano, a side table laden with 
creature comforts of a liquid nature. Several por- 
traits of His Worship decorate the walls. 

On the rise of the curtain is discovered His Guest. 
He is sitting in the room alone. On his knees is a 
large book labelled " Cuttings," which he reads with 
considerable irritation, a state of mind which he 
endeavours to conceal on the entrance of His Wor- 
ship. 

His Worship is a little man, of an intense vanity. He 
has a way of peering furtively at whom he is addressing 
whenever he thinks he has been delivered of something 
facetious. He comes in briskly, and giggles when 
he sees how his Guest is apparently occupied. 

His Worship. Excuse my leaving you, my dear 
boy. Been looking round. Ah, having a look at 
my book of records, eh ? You'll find some amusing 
cases there. 



8 LAUGHTER IN COURT. 

His Guest. Seem to be all amusing ! 

His W. (deprecatingly) . Oh, come, come 

His G. Every blessed page—" Laughter " — 
" Roars of Laughter " — " Loud Laughter in which 
the prisoner joined.'' 

His W. Yes, poor dear fellows. Most painful 
thing to see what capital fellows are brought up 
before me. Make your heart bleed. However, it's 
the blessed privilege of a magistrate that, if he chooses, 
he can always temper justice with mercy 

His G. And humour, apparently. Why, since 
I've been abroad, you've become quite a public 
jester. There must be hundreds of cases reported 
here. 

His W. (chuckling). Oh, really ! But I must 
say the Press have been very kind ! 

His G. (astonished at his way of putting it). Eh ? 

His W. (with pride). Most days they have some- 
thing in about me. 

His G. Yes, I see. With headlines. (Reading.) 
" Humour on the Bench." 

His W. Well, I suppose they're glad of something 
to brighten up their columns. Helps 'em to sell, 
no doubt. 

His G. Mm — ye— es. (Changing Jus manner.) 
I say, what do they think about it all ? 

His W. They ! Who ? 

His G. Why, the what-d'you-call-'ems — the 
johnnies who've got their business before you — 
defendants, prosecutors, and all that. Don't they 
ever cap you ? 

His W. Cap me ? You mean — make jokes ? 
(He is horror-stricken.) My dear fellow, a Court of 
Law's not a theatre for the bandying of humorous 
dialogue. Certainly not. 

His G. What if they did ? 

His W. (huffily). I think I know how to preserve 
my dignity. 

His G. Well, take another point. It's a serious 



LAUGHTER TX COURT. » 

business for them. Don't they ever object to the 
" laughter " stop being on — especially those at 
whose expense it is ? 

His W. No one's made any objection yet. If 
he did, it would be a grave case of Contempt. 

His G. (dryly). Yes, I can imagine that. 

His W. As a matter of fact, generally both sides 
laugh. 

His G. Well, no doubt they're sound. 

His W. Of course, now and then — well, the other 
day there was an infernal poet 

His G. Oh, I read about him. The fellow with 
the gramophone people. You know, I think he was 
rather hardly used. 

His W. Serve him right. A dull dog. An ill- 
conditioned, cantankerous chap. 

His G. (who has turned up the report). I see it 
was one of your brightest cases. Didn't he laugh ? 

His W. (scornfully). Laugh ! Might have been at 
his own funeral. 

His G. Well, he lost his case. 

His W. Serve him right. (Pulling himself up.) 
I mean, he hadn't got a leg to stand on. 

(Enter the Manservant.) 

Manservant. The cab is here, sir. 

(His Guest puts down the book.) 

His G. Thanks. Well, I must go. 

His W. Oh, you're early. (To Manservant.) 
Er — no signs to-night, I suppose. (Nervously.) 

Mans. None, sir. It's getting past his usual 
hour now, sir. 

(Exit Manservant.) 
His W. Thank goodness. (He busies himself 



10 LAUGHTER IN COURT. 

with a drink for his Guest.) I hope I'm going to be 
left in peace this evening. 

His G. Aren't you always ? 1 should have 
thought this was the very corner in the whole of 
England where you would be quiet. Listen. As 
calm as a broken-down motor-bus. 

His W. Yes. That's why I chose it. Till a 
week ago it was quiet. (Bitterly.) Look here. My 
only hour in the day is after dinner, when I can 
settle down to a little music, or a book and a cigar. 
But for the last week I've been trying to read one of 
the most delightful books of humorous verse I've 
ever come across. (Takes it from reading-desk) and 
as soon as I begin, an infernal ruffian comes on the 
common just outside, and starts blowing away at a 
damned cornet till I'm almost mad. (Excitedly .) 
What am I to do ? What am I to do ? 

His G. Run him in. 

His W. I can't. The beggar's on the common, 
on the common, you see. 

His G. What's the odds? Bluff him. He 
won't know the law. I suppose you've sent out. 

His W. Yes. 

His G. Well, if he comes again, have him in. 
Frighten him. Tell him you're a Beak. Threaten 
him with the law. 

His W. But it isn't against the law. 

His G. What's that got to do with it ? Have 
him in. Give him the Majesty of Law. 

His W. But he may be a madman. 

His G. Sure to be. All the better. Any lunatic 
would be afraid of a Magistrate. 

His W. (dubiously). You think that's best ? 

His G. I don't see what else you can do. 

(Manservant appears with coat, etc.) 

(Putting things on.) Well, good-night, good-night. 
Had a very jolly evening. 



LAUGHTER IN COURT. U 

His W. Good-night. Come and see me in court. 

His G. Right. What day ? 

His W. Monday's the best. I have some amusing 
cases on a Monday. He, he ! You ought to have 
been there to-day. Capital case. Retired prize- 
fighter applied for protection against his wife. 

His G. Was she a large woman ? 

His W. {pettishly). No, damn it, small. That's 
the joke. [Taking an evening paper.) Here, read 
it in the train. You'll find it— te — he — under the 
headline " A Merry Magistrate." 

His G. (who doesn't want it). Don't you want it 
for your book ? 

His W. No, I have a newscutting Agency. You 
take that. Good-night. 

(Exit Manservant and Guest.) 

His G. (putting in his head.) I say, go slow with 
that cornet man. He may be a journalist trying 
to get in for an interview. Up to anything, those 
chaps. 

(Exit Guest.) 

(Left to himself, His Worship rings the bell, goes to his 
chair, swings round his reading desk, opens his book, 
and becomes the picture of comfort.) 

(Enter the Manservant.) 

His W. If that infernal scoundrel comes to-night, 
tell him I won't have it. 

Mans. Yes, sir. Suppose 

His W If he doesn't go, I shall— er— take steps. 
Mans. Very good, sir. 

(Exit Manservant.) 

(For a moment His W'orsrtp reads with much enjoy- 
ment. After a pause, just as he is filled nth an 



12 LAUGHTER IN COURT. 

exquisite appreciation of some jest, there comes from 
the darkness without the ghastly, nerve- shattering, 
cracked wail of a comet in pain. His frame becomes 
rigid, his legs return to earth. He groans. The 
sound is repeated. It is followed by others, each worse 
than that before. His Worship tries to remain 
deaf to them. Suddenly he puts down his book, 
springs to his feet, and rushes to the bell.) 

(Enter the Manservant.) 

(His Worship cannot speak. He waves his hand 
wildly in the direction of the torment.) 

Mans, (in an injured voice). I have told him, sir. 

His W. What did he say ? 

Mans. Said he was learning the cornet. 

(A blast.) 

His W. Learning the — ough ! Did you tell him 
I wouldn't have it ? 
Mans. Yes, sir. 
His W. Well ? 

Mans. He said, wasn't it a nice moon. 
His W. (with conviction). He is mad. Then he 
-is mad. 

..Mans. I'm afraid you'll have to see him yourself, 
sir, 

(A blast.) 

His W. Ough ! I will, I will. Tell him to 
come in. Wait. D'you think he's a journalist ? 

Mans, (austerely). No, sir, he looks like a gentle- 
man. 

(A blast.) 

His W. I can't stand it. Fetch him at once. 
And, look here, make him leave that infernal thing 
outside, and then steal it. 



LAUGHTER IX COURT. 13 

JMans. Very well, sir. 

(Exit Manservant.) 

(The noise suddenly breaks off. His Worship is at 
the glass conjuring up a stem expression of counte- 
nance. Enter the Manservant.) 

The — er — gentleman, sir. (Sotto voce.) It's in his 
bag, sir. 

(Enter the Visitor.) 

(To His Worship's surprise, he is plainly a gentleman. 
He is nice looking, and of a debonnair and athletic 
habit. He is carrying a bag. He appears to think 
that he is invited in as a matter of courtesy, and 
advances upon his host with easy and insouciant 
affability.) 

His Visitor. Very kind of you, my dear sir, very 
hospitable. (Joyously.) Ah, I see what it is. (He 
waves his hand towards the piano.) 

His W. (choking with rage). What d'ye mean ? 

His V. A piano ! You're going to offer to play 
my accompaniments — but I'm only in exercises so 
far. 

His W. Nonsense, sir. I want to know what 
the devil 

His V. Naughty, naughty ! 

His W. Bah ! What you mean by 

His V. What, before a third party ? 

His W. Never mind the third party. 

His V. Oh, but I do mind. (To Manservant 
affably.) No objection to your personal appearance, 
you know. 

Mans. He, he ! He, he ! 

His W. (observing his ribaldry with disfavour). Go 
away ! Be at hand if I ring. Here ! Take the— 
er — gentleman's bag. 



14 LAUGHTER IN COURT. 

His V. (clutching it warily). No, you don't. 
Mustn't part an artist from his instrument. Why, 
it's my bedfellow. 

His W. All right. You can go. 

(Exit Manservant on the broad grin.) 

Now, sir, perhaps you'll explain yourself. 

His V. (who has caught sight of the drinks — ingra- 
tiatingly). There's one drawback to a cornet as a 
musical instrument — makes one so thirsty. 

His W. {refusing the hint). Did you hear me 
speak ? 

His V. Er — you don't plav the cornet, I suppose ? 

His W. No/ I don't. 

(His Visitor gives up an idea of a drink — for the 
present.) 

Will 3 r ou kindly tell me what you mean by coming 
outside my house, and making yourself a nuisance — 
a nuisance to me, sir — to me ? 

His V. (vaguely). Oh, Art, Art ! 

His W. Confound it, sir, do you know who you're 
speaking to ? 

His V. Name of Smith, by any chance ? 

His W. Smi — Smi — I'd have you know that I'm 
a magistrate, a stipendiary magistrate. 

His V. And a jolly good billet, I believe. 

His W. And I've sent for you to tell you that I 
won't have it. 

His V. {mildly). How do you propose to stop it ? 

His W. That's my affair. It wasn't to be bad- 
gered in this way that I came to live on the edge of a 
quiet common 

His V. (quickly). Common ! 

His W. Eh?' 

His V. My dear sir, any one can play the cornet 
on a common. Don't you try and interfere with 
the Public's rights. I'm the Public. 



LAUGHTER TN COURT. 15 

His \V. Don't you try to teach me law, sir. I 
don't want to be taught law by any noisy stranger — 
His V. Oh, but we're not strangers ! 

(His Worship starts.) 

Doesn't your Worship recognize me ? Can I have 
faded from its memory so soon ? 

His W. (feebly). It's the Poet ! 

His V. (angrily). Now then, none of that. Don't 
you call me a poet. 

His W. That's how your solicitor described you. 

His V. Yes, the fool. I told him not to. I 
knew you'd only try and be funny. (With great 
scorn.) You clown ! That's what I've come to 
talk about. 

His W. You'll do nothing of the kind. This is 
my house. Please leave it. 

His V. Why, 3 7 ou've just asked me in. Cornet 
and all ! (Arming himself with it.) I owe the cornet 
to you, by the way. (He puts it to his lips.) 

His W. Stop that, sir. Are you going, or shall 
I ring the bell for the police ? 

His V. Neither, little man, neither. Sit down. 
Away from the bell. You shall ring as much as you 
like in a few minutes. (He presses him gently but 
firmly into a chair.) 

(His Worship seems to be coiced, and keeps a nervous 
eye on the instrument.) 

You're not crowing on your own little dunghill now, 
you know. That's better. I'll sit here between you 
and the bell. And now to refresh your memory. 
A short time ago, a gentleman, of agreeable manners 
and prepossessing exterior, — me ! — whom his fool 
of a solicitor described as a poet, applied to you for 
protection against his neighbours, who made his 
life hideous with a damned gramophone which they 



16 LAUGHTER IN COURT. 

ground at half the night. When he asked them 
to draw it mild, they went on two hours longer. 
That's all the change he got. So he ran the brutes 
in, and blest, if he didn't find that, in the beak's 
point of view, there was no law against making a 
deliberate nuisance of yourself to your neighbours. 
(Smacking his lips.) So here I am ! 

Hi 3 W. There was no evidence that it was deli- 
berate. 

His V. (warming at his wrongs). Evidence, you 
little ass ! 

(His Worship jumps. Up goes the comet to His 
Visitor's lips. His Worship subsides.) 

It was obvious, from the very fact, to any one but a 
born idiot. You were too busy playing the buffoon 
to listen. 

His W. Buffoon, sir, buf (Up goes the cornet.) 

His V. Yes, buffoon ! All I got was a suggestion 
that I should retaliate by learning the cornet. And 
here it is ! (He smiles on His Worship.) 

His W. That remark about the cornet was merely 
intended to be jocular. 

His V. Jocular ! Ye gods ! Who the devil 
put you there to be jocular ? You're there for the 
law. 

His W. Well, if anything funny 

His V. Funny, you little byword ! My objection 
to the way you go on is that it isn't funny ! 

His W. Not funny ! This is an outrage ! 

His V. Your whole conduct on the bench is an 
outrage ! 

(They are both on their feet, glaring. Up comes the 
cornet. An appalling wail comes forth.) 

His W. Don't ! Don't ! (Writhing in his chair.) 
His V Then be quiet, and behave yourself. 



LAUGHTER IN COURT. 17 

Mere twopenny-halfpenny buffoonery that wouldn't 
be stood in a second-class Pub. (Looking by chance 
at the book.) Why, I'm hanged if he doesn't collect 
his crimes ! Conceited little idiot ! Here, I won't 
condemn you unheard. Where am I in the Chamber 
of Horrors ? Here we are ! The evidence was that 
the damned gramophone went on to all hours 
grinding out vulgar music-hall songs and worse 
band selections. Very well. You said, perhaps I 
didn't like music. Laughter. No doubt the per- 
formers did. Laughter. In amateur music the 
performers generally liked it better than the audience. 
Laughter. (Looking at him inquiringly.) Well, is 
that funny ? 

His W. I didn't say it for fun. 

His V. Then why did you say it ? 

(He has him there. His Worship sits digesting the 
matter.) 

His V. Well, then my foul of a solicitor called 
me a poet. That was your chance. (Reading.) 
" His Worship " — with a sly glance ; poet, indeed ? 
I'm not familiar with his name." They roared at 
that, didn't they ? 

His W. (savagely). You didn't. 

His V. No, and I lost my case ! 

His W. (starting np again). You insinuate, sir 

(The comet is raised. He collapses.) 

His V. It was beastly rude. However, we now 
come to a real gem : music hath charms to soothe 
the savage breast. Well, dash it, is that funny ? 

His W. (sourly). Not as you say it. 

His V. Then say it yourself ! Show me the funny 
way of saying it ! Go on ! 

His W. You have the advantage of me here. If 
I only had you in Court ! 

His V. You'd have the advantage of me there ! 



18 LAUGHTER IN COURT. 

Yes, arid you'd presume on it ! Then we come to a 
jocular piece of advice that I should change my 
address. Well ? (Inquiringly.) I ought to have 
a sense of humour by now, but I'm dashed if I can 
see yours. 

His W. At your own expense. 

His V. My own ex The cheek of the little brat \ 

What right have you got to try and be funny at any 
one's expense ? But, I say, do you really think you're 
funny ? Why, your remarks aren't as funny as my 
cornet ; that does at any rate teem with the unex- 
pected ; it's not obvious. But it isn't only me. Why, 
here's a whole bookful of this tosh — you're always 
at it. 

His W. That's no business of yours. 

His V. Yes, it is. I'm the Public — I've told 
you that once. Do you know that in court you repre- 
sent His Majesty ? And do you think I like to 
see the King's representative making himself publicly 
contemptible ? 

His W. Contemptible ? 

His V. Yes, begad. And contempt of court's 
an offence. You oughtn't to incite people to it. 

His W. Look here, sir, you lost your case. You 
had my advice. Now go. 

His V. Who the deuce asked for your advice ? 
However, I'm taking it. I'm changing my address. 
Into this neighbourhood. 

His W. (despairingly) . Here ? 

His V. Yes. And I'm learning the cornet — at 
least, I'm trying. (Raising it.) 

His W. Put that weapon down, sir, or I'll scream ! 
Do you solemnly suggest that you're coming here 
outside my window — always ? 

His V. Pretty well. Bar Sundays. All the 
summer before me. 

His W. (gasping). I'll prosecute you. 

His V. Can't. Your own precedent, you know. 
There's only one thing for it, so far as I can see. 



LAUGHTER IN COURT. lft 

His W. Eh ? 

His V. Change your address, or learn the trom- 
bone. Roars of laughter. - 

His W. Gurrh ! .{Struck with an idea.) No, 
but I tell you what. If I have too much, I'll have 
you charged for loitering about as a suspicious 
character. By gad, I will ! 

His V. (in high glee). What ? What a thing it 
is to have a legal mind ! I say, can 3-011 reallv run 
me in ? 

His W, Yes, I can. 

His V. And will you ? 

His W. Yes, 1 will. 

His V. (with decision). Good. I'll come every 
night . 

His W. Hey ? 

His V. Rather. Why, that's just what I want. 
I say, is Gillson, K.C., a friend of yours ? 

His W. No ! 

His V. Thought not, from the way he speaks of 
you. Holy terror to cross-examine, isn't he ? 

His W. * What's that got to do with it ? 

His V. Why, he is a pal of mine. You run me 
in, and he's promised to appear for me. Lord, we'll 
have it all but ! All this interview — everything I've 
said and done — and (sotto voce) everything I'm 
going to do ! You shall be cross-examined by 
Gillson ! Talk about laughter in Court ! 

His W. (utterly prostrate). Gillson ! (Under his 
breath.) My gum ! 

His V. Yes, good old Gillson ! He is a wag, 
that chap ! You'll be the laughing stock of the whole 
Press ! (Solemnly.) Little man, he'll make you 
smell hell ! (Taking up his comet.) Shall we begin ? 

His W. Gillson! (Feebly.) Glad if you'd go 
now ! Let the case be adjourned ! Glad if you'd 
go ! 

His V. Wouldn't you like a little music ? (Sees 
how broken he is.) All right, I won't rub it in. 



20 LAUGHTER IN COURT. 

(He goes for his bag. This he has left so that, in 
getting it, his eye falls on the drinks. He stands 
a moment, half in doubt, with one hand on the bag, 
gazing on the refreshments.) 

His W. (not looking up). I've nothing more to- 
night. Nothing more. 
His V. No, but I have. 

(It is plain that this last act of his is caused by a recol- 
lection of the drink that was not offered in response 
to his early hint.) 

Catch hold of this, will you ? 

(" This " is a large horse-collar , which he produces 
from his bag.) 

His W. (not looking up). What's that ? 

His V. Only a horse-collar. I want to see you 
grin through it. 

His W. (roused by this last insult). A hoise- 
collar ! Confound you, sir, this is too much ! Go 
at once ! 

His V. Yes, if you'll just- — (Offering it.) 

His W. I'll do nothing of the kind. You've 
gone too far. 

His V. But just 

His W. Look here, I've been very forbearing to 
you, very forbearing— but — are you going ? 

His V. Yes, if 

His W. Very well. (He jumps out of his chair.) 

His V. Now look here, little man, you've got to 
do it. Here, catch hold of it. Smile ! Grin ! 
Try and look funny ! 

(He advances with the collar. His Worship dodges 
him round the table, dashes to the bell, and rings 
violently.) 



LAUGHTER IN COURT. 21 

His \Y. Now go, before the servants come. 

(His Visitor follows quickly, gels behind, and crams 
the collar down over his head.) 

His V. Let them all come ! More witnesses for 
Gillson ! Roars of laughter. 

(His Worship collapses utterly.) 

His W. No, no. Take it off. 

(His Visitor holds it on.) 

Lock the door ! 

His V. Shan't ! 

His W. Take it off — they're coming — I give in ! 

His V. Honour bright ? 

His W. Yes, quick ! What shall I say ? 

His V. (cruelly). Something funny ! 

His W. No, no ! What ? 

His V. (whips the collar away and holds it behind 
his back). Tell 'em to get me a cab. 

(The Manservant enters.) 

Mans. Did you ring, sir ? 

His W. A cwab for this gentleman, kick ! I 
mean — Cab— quick ! 

(Exit the Manservant.) 

His V. I say, you cut it rather tine ! 

His W. (breathing heavily). You might have 
spared me that last indignity. 

His V. Why, I did ! You've got no gratitude ! 
Here have I been carrying the thing about for a week, 
and — (He sees that His Worship is broken) all right. 
We'll say no more. 

His W. (humbly). I thank you. I thank you. 

His V. Not at all, not at all. But really, you 
know, all this Laughter in Court rot, don't you 
think you'ji better drop, it ? It's so beastly undig- 



22 LAUGHTER IN COURT. 

nified. Look here, what do your brother beaks 
think of it all ? If it were funny, it would be bad 
enough. But, dash it, it can't be funny. Humour 
requires a discriminating audience. But you're 
top dog. Every one's got to laugh somehow. They 
know that. Besides, it isn't fair. No one can 
answer back. And I'll take my oath it does'nt 
improve your decisions. 

(His Worship has received this lecture without moving. 
He now speaks with some difficulty.) 

His W. Perhaps we needn't go into that. But I 
confess that my sympathies were possibly wrongly 
directed in your case. But — before the cab comes — 
I hope you won't find it necessary to come every 
evening as you threatened. 

His V. Well, / had to stand it every evening. 

His W. But I appeal to you 

His V. I appealed to them. They went on all 
the longer. 

His W. But you didn't think it kind. But listen. 
(With great pathos.) Are you a bachelor ? 

His V. Yes, thank Heaven ! 

His V. So am I, and consequently fond of my 
home. I'm busy all day. My evenings are my 
only time for relaxation. As a bachelor, you will 
understand that I am fond also of a pipe and a book 
in solemn quiet. (He waxes eloquent with his sorrows.) 
Sir, for the last week my pleasures — my innocent 
pleasures— have been destroyed. No sooner have I 
sat down than your infernal — I should say, your 
arrival — bias effectually banished peace from my 
humble roof just as I was tackling one of the most 
delightful books I've ever hungered for. (He holds 
up the book.) Come, sir, don't you think we've had 
enough ? (Plaintively.) Don't rub it in ! 

His V. (thunderstruck): That the book ? Well, 
I'm damned ! 



LAUGHTER IX COURT. 23 

His W. Yes. " Blots— by A. J. Penn." You 
know it ? 

His Y. {coyly giggling). He, he ! 

(His Worship looks up in surprise, and is amazed in 
see his opponent's countenance betraying all the 
shy acknowledgments of Authorship.) 

His W. My dear sir, are you unwell ? But — 
that countenance — -that smile — good gracious ! Can 
you really be the author of this ? The very man 
whom I've been longing to meet ? But your name 
was not given in Court as Penn. 

His V. (giggling). Hardly publish verse under 
my own name. I have some self-respect. That 
(very coyly) that's my Penn-name. 

(His Worship leaps up and waxes enthusiastically 
hospitable.) 

His W. My dear sir, say no more 1 This is 
indeed an honour. But — what ? Not a poet ! 
(He wags his finger reproachfully.) 

His V. I may be a writer of light verse — but I'll 
take my oath I'm no poet. 

His W. (archly). Legal quibble — to a lawyer ! 
But this is most gratifying. (He fusses about.) Sit 
down at once, my dear sir ! Try one of these ! 

(A cigar.) And say "when " (He goes to the 

drinks.) 

HisV. This is awfully good of you. Thank you. 
That's heaps. 

His W. (with great empressement). Most kind of 
you to look in like this. 

His V. Not at all. Thanks. (For the drink.) 

(Enter the Manservant.) 

Mans. 'The cab is here, sir. 
His W. Damn the cab ! 

(Exit the Manservant.) 



24 LAUGHTER IX COURT. 

But what a lesson to me ! I can understand your 
being annoyed. I blush to think how feeble my poor 
little amateur remarks must have appeared to you ! 

His V. No, no ! But I must apologise for having 
made an infernal nuisance of myself. Serves me 
right for trying to be funny. 

His W. But I'm delighted you came, sir. 

(Fie raises his glass.) 

Your very good health ! But why didn't you tell 
me who vou were ? Oh, if I'd only known, how I 
would have hotted those ruffians with the gramo- 
phone ! 

His V, (with excitement). You mean, I should 
have won my case ? 

His W. (enthusiastically). Of course ! 

His V. (raising his glass). Success to Crime ! 

Curtain — on the two amicably hobnobbing. 




> DRftWING ROOM 




me large size, the buck scene ia 13 feet long and 9 f eei higb and ex - 



Ollly tiopl *u uuu »»>feu Biov. vuv »s««*m mwvhv mm *w *www «vu B mnw v »ww» -_.» to *-. MH%» w» 

tends with the Wings and Borders to 20 feet long and 11£ feet high. In the centre 
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tastefully ornamented and beautifully coloured, forming a most elegant picture. 
The above is a representation of a box scene consisting of 88 sheets of paper, 
the extra sheets being used for the doors each side. 

£ s. d. 
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Ditto, mounted J. _ 6 5 



COTTAGE 




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itre is a door trading uutsine. 
i centre is a window. On the 
me. The above is a represent 
Box Scene), but a Box Scene 
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2316 His Good Genius 

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2322 Final Rehearsal 

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2324 Nelson Touch 

2325 Convict on the Hearth 

VOLUME 156 

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2328 Bishop's Candlesticks 

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2330 Changeling 

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